


Send the Skyline Crumbling

by Jibbly



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, mentally ill persons, not you tyrell, someone please help elliot, toxic relationsips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-16 23:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8120911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jibbly/pseuds/Jibbly
Summary: Tyrell feels the tears that are gathering and pooling in his eyes as he goes to sit beside Elliot. He presses one hand against the other’s stomach, applying pressure to try and slow down the bleeding, and uses his other hand to reach for his cell phone.He dials as fast as he can. Eliot already slipping into unconsciousness under his fingers.The phone rings and is answered immediately.“I need someone with medical training now. I had to shoot him.”“Understood.” The phone line goes dead and he waits to hear the footsteps coming towards them.He sees Eliot’s eyes close and he lets out a grateful breath when he sees the people coming with medical supplies. They quickly kneel down beside him and get to work there on the dirty floor of the abandoned building.============what happens after elliot gets shot.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "I love him"  
> BIT CH ME TOO U AIn't SPECIAl  
> the finale has me shook

_He’s sitting down at that bench again. The one he sat on in the park when he decided to play Mr. Robot for control. The board is set and his opponent makes his next move._

_“It didn’t have to be this way, kiddo.” Mr. Robot says and Elliot thinks there’s some actual remorse somewhere in there._

_Elliot just collects the pawn he takes from the other when it’s his turn to move. “I don’t want to hear it.” They aren’t playing for control this time. They aren’t playing for anything other than to pass time by. He’s still upset at the person who is sitting across from him._

_“I did what was best. We did what was best.”_

_“I said I don’t want to hear it.” Elliot clenches his jaw and lifts his hand to shift a chess piece into another position, his hand lifting up and revealing a bloody finger print where he had touched it._

_His hands are still bloodied from where they had pressed into his bleeding stomach. The wound from the gunshot was still there, wet and soaking into the cotton fabric of his hoodie. But neither of them pay it any attention. They just continued to play. Over and over again._

_Mr. Robot growing more and more jittery as time passed them by. Elliot knew that he felt guilty, but he just didn’t care about how he felt at the moment. He had LIED. Again. Like he always does._

_Elliot had really thought that they were is an agreement. That they were going to start working together from now on, but no. He just had to keep the truth from him and cause more havoc. Him and Tyrell._

_“I said that he wasn’t messing around.”_

_The shock of pain that raced up his spine when the bullet tore through him and the sight of Tyrell’s crumbling expression still well imprinted in his mind._

_“Can you blame me for thinking that he wasn’t real?”_

_Another move. “No. I can’t.”_

_===_

Angela gets to the safe house as soon as she can, but with all the chaos in the city, it still takes a good twenty minutes. She’s walked up to the floor that Elliot is being kept in, security members of the Dark Army standing guard. She doesn’t see Whiterose, but that doesn’t surprise her.

Whiterose doesn’t have any time to spare.

Once she arrives at the room, she opens the door and finally gets to see Elliot. She isn’t sure how they managed to smuggle in all the medical equipment that they have in the room into the building, but she doesn’t care. Elliot is there on a medical bed. Tubes and ivs hooked up to him and trying to keep him alive from the gunshot wound.

Tyrell is sitting in a chair next to Elliot, anguish written on his face as he stares at Elliot’s comatose form.

After she met Whiterose, she had been taken to another safe house. But not before she had been briefed on the situation. The man and woman who had driven her before, now were waiting in a black SUV for her. She was given a flash drive and laptop. Information about what the Dark Army has been doing and what they were working towards.

What Elliot was going to do.

She was going to be Eliot’s rock in this new world. That was the job that they were entrusting her with.

“How is he?” Her voice is even and cool.

Tyrell looks up at her with his red rimmed eyes. She knows that this man loves Elliot. That she loves Elliot too, and that is why they are allowed to be as close as they are to him. She takes the chair that is against the wall and pulls it up to the other side of the bed.

Tyrell Wellick. Disgraced Evil Corp employee. Terrorist. Obsessed with ideas greater than himself. She thinks again that the three of them aren’t very different at all.

“He’s the same. They stopped the internal bleeding and stitched up his stomach, but they said that they didn’t know when he would wake up.”

She nods and reaches for Elliot’s hand and rubs her thumb over his wrist. She would like to believe that Elliot would wake up because he, in some unexplainable way, would be able to sense her presence. That all their years of friendship would reach him, but she knows that that only happens in drama filled television shows and badly written movies.

They stay there, the three of them for what feels like hours as the world outside of the cement walls of their building is falling into ruin once again by Elliot’s hands. She looks at Tyrell again, and he hasn’t stopped looking at Elliot.

Tyrell has been with Elliot both times he’s done this. A witness, handpicked by Elliot himself the first time, and a partner during this second time. She feels that crushing weight of being left out of Elliot’s life in her chest again. It’s suffocating.

The Dark Army had given her Tyrell’s number and him her’s. She was to be his confidant. His support as well as Elliot’s.

That phone call with a remorseful trembling voice. She telling him that he did what he had to. What was necessary for the good of their great cause. His confession and her’s too.

_“I love him”_

_“I do, too”_

She would be lying to herself if she thought that they would be close in the future, anything like true friends. Nowhere at the level that she held the third person in the room with them to, but she could empathize. That was all was needed of her with regards to Tyrell Wellick. He is not her priority.

===

_The bullet leaves the gun in his trembling hand and he stares at the shock that washes Eliot’s face. The shock and pain and it feels like Tyrell has shot himself._

_Elliot drops down to the floor, blood pooling out from the wound in his stomach._

_Tyrell feels the tears that are gathering and pooling in his eyes as he goes to sit beside Elliot. He presses one hand against the other’s stomach, applying pressure to try and slow down the bleeding, and uses his other hand to reach for his cell phone._

_He dials as fast as he can. Eliot already slipping into unconsciousness under his fingers._

_The phone rings and is answered immediately._

_“I need someone with medical training now. I had to shoot him.”_

_“Understood.” The phone line goes dead and he waits to hear the footsteps coming towards them._

_He sees Eliot’s eyes close and he lets out a grateful breath when he sees the people coming with medical supplies. They quickly kneel down beside him and get to work there on the dirty floor of the abandoned building._

_Tyrell moves his hand up to caress Elliot’s cheek. Elliot’s own blood smearing against his pale and clammy skin. “I am sorry.” He whispers to him._

_The man next to him speaks, his words seeming far away to Tyrell. “We are going to move him to site black. “_

_Tyrell nods. He bends down to press a kiss against Elliot’s sweaty temple. His hand sliding against Elliot’s face, so that the trail of blood goes up over his ear and messes into his hair._

_He rises up to his feet and they take Elliot away from him. He turns back to the computer and stars down at the screen. Pulling out the chair, he starts to rewrite everything that Elliot had undone. He can’t understand the sudden personality shifts that Elliot does. The man is truly something amazing, and he wants to bring Tyrell into the new world with him as gods._

_The text is fixed, the program ready to be launched._

_He looks quickly towards the windows that are patched up with dirty thin paper and yearns for Elliot to be standing beside him as he types in the last of the commands and sets the world on fire._

_A new team of people come into the room and they start dismantling the equipment and hard drive when everything is done. Tyrell calmly picks up his suit jacket from where it lies and puts it on. Making his way downstairs and out of the building where he knows his vehicle is waiting for him._

_He opens the black car door and sides into the back seat, the driver looks at him from the rearview mirror. “Take me to Site Black. Try to get there as soon as possible.” He runs a hair through his hair, pushing it back and away from his face._

_The car pulls away from the curve and the sound of approaching sirens that are scrambling to rush to the burning building across from them._

_He lets out a shaky breath and digs his fingernails into the palm of his hand as he looks out of the window. Buildings blurring by with the emotion bottled up inside of him. His palm hurts and he feels the way his nail break skin. He digs them in deeper._

_“I’m on my way, Elliot.”_

_They arrive at site black and he rushes into the building, willing to break anyone’s neck that stands in his way. The other personnel in the building hardly give him a passing glance, already knowing where he’s headed._

_He goes to the room that he was told Elliot would be in, but is stopped when he hears a familiar voice. He clenches his jaw._

_“He is in the middle of surgery and you going in will only hinder my surgeons.”_

_Turning, he is glares at the impassive face of Whiterose._

_“I need to see him.”_

_“You can wait a little longer.”_

_Fury strikes down his core at being withheld from Elliot, and Whiterose of all people telling him to wait. The beeping of the other person’s watch goes off, signaling the end of another minute. And Tyrel wants to ram that head against the wall until he sees the life leave the other’s dark eyes._

_“He is very close to dying. A minute later and he would be dead.”_

_Tyrell turns his glare to the wall and takes a step away from the door. He wants to scoff at the thought of something as insignificant as a bullet would topple Elliot. Would kill him, but he knows that he still had Elliot’s blood caked under his fingernails._

_The greatness that follows Elliot can overshadow the fragility of his existence in his mind._

_He feels the other step closer to him and he turns his head. A slip of paper is held out to him, another beep, another minute going past them. There are numbers scrawled on it and a name._

_He takes it from the outstretched hand and looks over it. “what is this?”_

_“That is the number to Angela Moss. Call her, if you feel the need to” Whiterose walks pass him and Tyrell turns so his gaze follows her as she leaves. The clanking of the other’s heels on the flooring following him and another minute passes._

_Tyrell looks down at the paper in his hand and he tries to put a face to the name. It sounds familiar and then he remembers. She is close to Elliot, a friend. He wasn’t aware that she had already been integrated into their plan yet, but then again he and Elliot had the coming of a new era to accomplish._

_He memorizes the number and slips it into his pocket. He decides to stay out of the room for now and let the people inside save Elliot’s life._

_===_

_“I want you to tell me everything.” The chess pieces that they had been playing with are in shambles next to them. The board empty and game done with for now. The black and white checkered of the board reflecting them and how their reflections are reversed. He is Mr. Robot and Mr. Robot is him._

_“Everything that you told Tyrell. Everything that you did with the Dark Army, Whiterose, E-corp. I’m sick of all the lies! Tell me the truth already.”_

_The park bench they are sitting on is there and then gone, a flicker. They are sitting in his prison cell, another flicker, and then they are sitting in his living room. Mr. Robot looks tired and ragged, no better than Elliot looks himself. They both had gotten shot, after all._

_“Okay.”_

_“I mean it.”_

_“I know you do, kid.”_

_===_

The days pass by sluggishly, and Angela comes and goes. Tyrell stays. There is a bathroom down the hall and it’s filthy and he sneers at the rust of the sink and bath tub. But he endures it, because he refuses to leave Elliot’s side again.

The thought of calling Joanna and letting her know that he’s alive crosses his mind.

These past few months were slow and tortuous. Having to stay hidden and not see the other hacker. Just that brief phone call to tide him over, until the time finally came. To be reunited and change the tides. Becomes gods.

He watches over Elliot while he sleeps, vows to guard him from anything that might come rasping it’s knuckles at their door. He will plunge his hands into whoever dares to separate them.

It’s two weeks and Elliot wakes up.

He smiles, wide and tears in his eyes as he reaches for his hand. He clutches it in his hand, grip hard and sits himself on the bed as Elliot’s eyes struggle to stay open.

“Where am I?” Is the first thing out of his mouth and the words are music to Tyrell’s ears.

He brings Elliot’s hand up to his mouth and kisses his knuckles. “You’re safe.”

Elliot pulls his hand away and Tyrell lets him. That same look of confusion from before is on Elliot’s face again. “Tyrell?” Elliot squints t him, and a look of horror slips onto his face. “What did you do?”

shaking his head, Tyrell laughs, smile happy. “What did _we_ do, Elliot.”

Elliot looks down at his arms and sees the needles that are injected into his arms and then the machines next to and behind the bed. He looks back at Tyrell and takes a deep breath. “You shot me.”

“Yes.” He raises his hand to brush against Elliot’s cheek and feels how the other man freezes at his touch. “Can you forgive me? I had to. For the sake of our cause.”

Elliot is staring at him, his large eyes wide and frightened. “You killed all those people.”

“NO.” Tyrell snatches his hand away and quickly stands and paces besides the bed. “No no no! They aren’t important. You! Elliot,” He gestures to Elliot’s bed ridden form. “You are important. But those people. They’re n-“

“Stop it.”

He stops mid-step. Elliot isn’t looking at him anymore and Tyrell hates it. He takes his seat in his chair again, and takes out his phone. His fingers hover over the fake name on his caller id. “Do you want me to call Angela Moss?” He really doesn’t want to. The thought of sharing Elliot with anyone makes his foot grind into the floor.

“Angela?”

The surprise and hope in his tone is clear as day. He clearly has affection for her.

Tyrell nods and sends a quick text to her letting her know that Elliot is awake. She immediately calls.

He picks up the phone to his ear.

_“Let me talk to him.”_

He looks up to see Elliot looking at him, his big eyes staring. He hands over the phone, but changes his mind and lifts the phone to Elliot’s ear instead.

“Angela? Is that you?”

_“Hey. Are you feeling?”_

“I’m…. fine, right now. Where are you?”

_“I’m on my way.”_

The line cuts off and Elliot stares back at Tyrell wondering when Angela got involved with the shit storm that is his life. Tyrell takes the phone back and puts it in his pant pocket. Elliot lets out a shuddering breath and shuffles on the bed, which makes him groan in pain as it brushes his wound.

Elliot shoves the blanket away from him and he sees the mass of bandages that wrap around his stomach.

Tyrell moves closer to the bed and sees how Elliot’s eyes track him. Reaching out, he places his hand over Elliot’s. His clear eyes full of sorrow and remorse as he stares at the stark white bandages.

“Forgive me.” He whispers and Elliot doesn’t move when Tyrell’s other hand ghosts over his middle. The pads of his fingers barely touching him, but it makes Elliot hold his breath. He doesn’t know how to act around the man, right now.


	2. Chapter 2

Tyrell hasn’t left his side. It makes Elliot’s skin sweat coldly whenever the taller man makes a move to touch him. Which Tyrell does a lot.

So far it hasn’t been more than a hand rubbing against his knuckles or those long pale spidery fingers ghosting over his gunshot wound, but he knows that there’s a hunger in those icy blue eyes. It makes him desperately want to call for Angela for even Darlene.

Mr. Robot is no help.

He stands awkwardly in the corner of the room, his face scrunching up whenever Tyrell says anything particularly over the top, but does nothing to stop it.

\----

_Angela had come in, long wheat blonde hair tied neatly up in a slicked back pony tail and dressed professionally. She had taken one look at Tyrell, and then rushed to Elliot’s side. Smile on her face and taking his hands in hers._

_Elliot saw how Tyrell’s lips flickered down unpleasantly from the corner of his peripheral vision._

_“Hey.” She says softly and Elliot wants to leave this place._

_She seems so different than the person who worked with him in that cyber security firm. The world has changed her as much as it has him, probably more so._

_Years and memories tying them together, and now she is part of this fucked up chapter in his life._

_“Angela, what are you doing here?” He lays back in the bed, and he knows that she knows he means in this situation and not in this abandoned building with him and the Dark Army._

_She tells him. The words coming out fluidly from her mouth and he knows these are words that were given to her. She has probably rehearsed what she’s saying a hundred times, waiting for him to wake up._

_She makes herself comfortable in the other chair by his bedside, and he is grateful but still nervous for her safety._

_Mr. Robot prefers to stay on Angela’s side whenever she visits, he notices._

_The older man avoiding the other person in the room, even though only Elliot can see him._

_Angela has to leave in the morning, a man and woman coming to his door and telling her “it’s time”. Elliot almost jerks out of bed at the thought that they are going to hurt her, but she just runs her hand over his head and gives him a kiss to the forehead. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”_

_He stares at her as she walks out of the room with those two other people, unable to relax._

_“You care for each other so much. Truly. A pure friendship.” Tyrell says besides him, and Elliot turns his eyes from the closed door to slicked back hair and icy blue eyes. “It’s a good thing that you have such people in your life. You need people that care about you, Elliot. Like Angela and myself.”_

“When will this guy give it a break?” _Mr. Robot says through gritted teeth and Elliot wants to glare at him. He has no right to talk, since he flamed Tyrell’s obsession with him._

_Elliot doesn’t reply to him, just stares and tracks the other’s hands whenever they move._

_\----_

He decided to leave Elliot in the room while the other slept. He, himself, feeling restless in his skin after having to sit through the spectacle of Elliot and Angela’s affection of each other. He saw how Elliot would track him and would flinch whenever he touched him, and that just made his frustration grow.

He saw how Angela cradled Elliot’s hands and gave him that small parting kiss while the other didn’t so much as blink.

That strong and confident personality that rolls off of Elliot in waves is nowhere in sight and it’s setting his nerves on edge.

He realizes that Elliot’s skittish nature might be due to the fact that the hacker was shot by his own hands. Though it does nothing to calm him down.

In three hours, the team of medical personnel that has been taking care of Elliot are going to come and take him to bathe.

He walks towards the stained and streaked windows of the building, he can’t really see anything through the disgusting glass, but he knows what he wants there to be outside. His and Elliot’s new world.

He presses his fingertips to the glass, it’s cold to the touch but warms under the pads of his fingers.

“Soon we will walk out of this filthy stone and cement tomb and walk into the light of the world you built.” He whispers to himself and lets his hand drops from the window.

He stays where he is, staring outside unseeingly until he hears the thudding of boots and shoes from the medical team. They are walking down the long empty corridor of the building to reach Elliot’s room. Ready to help him cleanse himself, of the grime that clings to him now in his bed ridden state.

He can tell that they are at their door now, and he turns to starts walking in that same direction.

\----

_Tyrell has fallen asleep, but his fingers are still firmly placed against his bandages on his stomach. Elliot would take them off if he thought that the other wouldn’t wake up from the movement. Clenching his jaw, he leaves the long fingers there and looks to the other person in the room._

_Mr. Robot is in the chair that Angela had been in when she was here. The opposite side of Tyrell, but staring at the sleeping man with barely held disgust._

_Elliot scoffs._

_“You have no right to look like that at him.” Elliot says to his father and it makes the other man grimace more._

_“I didn’t know he would get this obsessed with you.”_

_“With_ you _. He knows Mr. Robot. He loves him.” Elliot says coldly to which the other nods solemnly._

_“I….” He looks at the white bandages of Elliot’s stomach and gives the man a pitiful look. “I’m sorry that this happened to you, kid. I didn’t want you to get hurt.” He means it, and Elliot knows that. They had spent endless time together while he laid unconscious. Their emotions fluid between the both of them and there was finally truth between the both of them._

_The chess games put away, and no sit com fever dream to mask the pain of what was really happening to them._

_The truth was the only thing Elliot wanted in that pocket of time they were in and Mr. Robot finally gave it to him. Fully._

_He told him everything. Every meeting with the Dark Army, Darlene, Johanna, Tyrell._

_\---_

_Tyrell sits in the chair in the old abandoned arcade, eyes flying over the screen as the series of programs brings down the biggest company in the world. His excitement is palpable and there’s a glint of sweet madness in his eyes._

_Elliot reaches into the popcorn and takes out the gun that was left there._

_Then Elliot is gone, tucked away securely in his head, while Mr. Robot takes the reins._

_There’s still so much more that needs to be done, and the man in front of him is who will help him do it._

_Walking up to the taller man, Elliot spins the chair so that they are facing each other. Tyrell sees the gun and he straightens up in shock, but before he can see anything, Elliot runs his hand over the side of his face._

_“What do you think?” Elliot’s voice is syrupy slow and sweet, lower than usual and it makes Tyrell’s eyes widen. Mr. Robot has noticed how invested Tyrell is with his vision of what Elliot is. Of what Mr. Robot is. And he decides to take advantage of that fact. “Of the beginning of our new world?”_

_“Our?” Tyrell’s pupils are dilated and his breathing is picking up in pace. His own hand coming up to cover Elliot’s._

_“That’s right.”_

_“Elliot…” Tyrell closes his mouth and that madness is back. “Our new world.”_

_“only the barest image of it, yet. There is still more that we need to do.”_

_“More? What else?” Tyrell is enraptured as Elliot’s other hand mimics the motions of the one tyrell has gripped in his fingers. The cold metal of the gun slipping against Tyrells skin with the salt and butter of the popcorn it had been concealed in._

_“Will you help me, then? Walk with me in this new era?” He almost rolls his eyes at his dramatic wording, but it does what it needs to do._

_Tyrell raises his other hand to grip the back of Elliot’s neck, bringing them forward and their foreheads are grinding against each other. “Anything.” The words are hot and breathed into Elliot’s mouth._

_“You have to make me a promise first.” Elliot stares hard into his eyes, and Tyrel nods quickly._

_“Whatever you want.”_

_The click of the gun behind Tyrell’s head as Elliot brings his other hand to cock the pistol. Tyrell doesn’t move from his place, only closing his eyes as he feels the cold press of the gun’s muzzle against his temple. Elliot body warmth still close and welcoming to him. He awaits patiently for the person in front of him to pull the trigger. He will become a sacrificial lamb, if that is what Elliot wants._

_“You have to promise me, that no matter who it is, you will take this gun and stop them if they come in the way of our new world.” The worlds make Tyrell’s eyes open and he stares at Elliot’s large eyes. They are hard and serous, and the only thing he can do is nod. The metal digging into his head._

_“Yes.”_

_“Even if that person is me.”_

_Tyrell’s eyes flicker across his face, but he still nods in agreement. “Yes.”_

_The gun goes lax in Elliot’s hand and he hands it over to Tyrell. The other grabbing the pistol as if a gift from God himself._

**Author's Note:**

> twitter @jibblyuniverse4  
> tumblr @jibblyuniverse
> 
> please leave kudos and comments :))))))))))))


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